


The Hero Comes Back to Me

by bar2d2s



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke didn't come for him, and Wedge was left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hero Comes Back to Me

If Luke had come to him, asked him to follow him into exile, Wedge knows he would have. To hell with almost three decades of loyal service to first the Rebellion, and then the Republic, everyone and their droid knew Wedge Antilles would follow Luke Skywalker into an active minefield with a blindfold on, trusting him to get them through unscathed.

But Luke didn't come, and Wedge was left behind.

They say there are five levels of grief. Wedge blew through the first three stages in about ten minutes, when Leia came to him, begging for him to give up Luke's location. He hadn't even known Luke had gone anywhere.

"What do you mean, where is he? Isn't he where he's always been? Luke wouldn't take off for some unknown place without telling me." His confusion had quickly bled into anger. "He swore, after Dagobah, he _swore_ he'd always tell me when he was planning on vanishing. He can't do this again! I swear, when I get my hands on him-" Wedge's hands froze in midair, Leia's thin neck the only one within wringing reach. It wouldn't do to threaten a superior, let alone a mother in mourning. "He'll, he'll come back. He always comes back, doesn't he? Can't keep that one away."

No matter where he went in the universe, Luke always found his way back to his twin, always came home to Wedge. But months passed, and Wedge's optimistic bargaining with the universe slowly slipped into depression. He rarely socialized anymore, answering only to higher command and his own direct subordinates in Rogue Squadron. Though he hadn't let his professional appearance slip, his nights post-mission were filled with the kind of alcohol he wouldn't have dared to drink as a younger man. They called the foul liquid rotgut for a reason, after all.

Once he knew all the details, about the destruction of the temple and the defection of Ben Solo, Wedge had allowed himself to cry. His nephew had been such a bright, promising child. Wedge had often thought of him as a son, especially when Han would joke about how the boy had more of his own features than those of his parents. He couldn't face Leia directly yet, not after the scene in his apartment, but when she'd called him to confirm that they were _not_ able to locate his niece's body among the dead, he breathed a sigh of relief all the same.

His depression lasted months, which slowly stretched into years. In time, he retired from active duty, was named Admiral. His job became more focused on strategy, on stealthy yet enthusiastic recruitment directly underneath the First Order's nose. He was often a target of attack, his long years of service to the Republic overshadowed by the achievements in his youth with the Rebellion. When the Resistance eventually sprung up, headed by whom else but Leia herself, he was all too eager to lend his services. Anything for something to do. He and Leia were on better terms, now that she had stopped asking if there had been any word from Luke every time they met, for there never was.

Wedge had just begun to accept that, possibly, Luke was gone. He was never coming back. And then rumor of a map he'd left behind sprung up, and acceptance was shelved, replaced by a heady mixture of hope and anger.

He would see Luke again. Luke had left a way of being traced, but hadn't told _him_. If they could find him, the Resistance would have a better chance of winning, a Force master on each side. If they could find him, Wedge was going to throttle him within an inch of his life, and let Leia finish him off.

There were times when Wedge sincerely wasn't sure if he wasn't going to kiss Luke when he saw him next, or shoot him. Both seemed like the proper option, at any given moment.

He heard the news of the fall of the Republic from the opposite side of the galaxy. He was closer by the time Starkiller Base fell, and his hands itched to be at the controls of his X-Wing. He heard of Han's death straight from Leia's lips, saw the copy of the completed map with his own two eyes. It had taken three men to restrain him, still quite spry in his old age, thank you, but only a handful of words from Leia to settle him.

"He's coming back, whether he wants to or not. There has been an awakening." With a little smirk, she added, "And she brought Chewie."

He could wait. He'd waited nearly twenty years, he could wait a few days more. So he kept busy; overseeing drills, fixing planes. Repairing all the little bridges he'd burned with his husband's twin, staying up late into the night to simply _emote_. It was freeing, for military such as them to have someone to lean on without worrying about being judged.

"I'm still not sure if I'm going to hold him or hurt him." Wedge confessed after a week, and Leia smiled sadly.

"I always said the same thing about Han. See what comes to mind first, then do the second. That usually ends up being the right one."

It's a month later that the boy, the defector from the First Order, runs in panting with Dameron in tow. Wedge hadn't gotten a chance to speak with him, between his coma and his not being assigned anywhere near the birds. Apparently, he had more of a talent for shooting than flying.

"The Falcon is hailing us. They're about a day out. They're coming back!" Wedge's hands clenched around the arms of his chair, and he could swear he felt the metal bend.

Luke had always joked that he was about as Force-sensitive as a transparisteel window but now, sitting in the command center on D'Qar, if he closed his eyes...Wedge swore he could feel Luke meditating, hear the steady in and out of his breathing as if he was sitting next to him. It was an unsettling feeling, but he took it and held tight to it.

There was a moment, just one, barely an hour before the Falcon was set to land, where all of his excitement and anger turned into a stomach-rolling fear. It had been so long. Wedge had to strain to remember what Luke looked like the last he'd seen him, the face forever burned into his mind that of the sun-kissed kid from Tatooine who scoffed at the idea of missing a two-meter hole. Would Luke even recognize _him_? He was thinner than he'd been, his hair more silver than black. At least he'd never tried to hide the slight gauntness of his cheeks beneath a beard. Wedge shook these thoughts away, dressing quickly. He chose simpler garb, unwilling to disgrace his uniform if he _did_ end up getting in a fight.

Oh yes, he was still running hot.

When the Falcon set down, it was his hand on Leia's wrist for a change. She'd started forward before the engine had even cut off. There was a small crowd gathered, and when the door opened, the kid, Finn, immediately darted forward and scooped the emerging girl off her feet. A smile broke though his neutral expression unbidden; he'd been hearing more about Finn and Rey now that he'd actually had the mind to ask about them, and he was impressed with what he'd heard. 

Artoo rolled out unnoticed during the louder, more excited reunion between the kids, quietly seeking out the ones he had been missing. There was an unmistakable sound of distress from Chewie that echoed through the grounds before the Wookie exited, seeming disgruntled. More time passed, the crowd either moving to speak with Rey, or going back to their previous projects. Wedge ground his teeth. Leia's mouth was pressed into a thin line, but amusement was rolling off her in waves.

"He's in there." Wedge said out loud, less a question and more of a statement. Leia nodded.

"He's nervous."

"You have to be joking." He replied, eyes closing as he rubbed his temples.

"When have I ever?" A good point.

Luke had once told him that his stubbornness was attractive. His unwillingness to back down from what he believed in was one of the things that had brought him to the Rebellion, and had driven him to succeed. Wedge planned to make him eat those words, because he was more than willing to stand out here all day.

Luckily, Leia was equally stubborn, but much less patient.

"To hell with this." She'd muttered, wrenching her arm free and stalking into the ship. There was some yelling, followed by a quiet wail. Then there was just silence, and Wedge was waiting again. 

He'd known, really he had, that Leia would be the first to get to him. Luke was the other half of his heart, but Leia was the other half of Luke's soul. Ben had been her son, Han had been her husband. Her daughter had never been found. Luke was all she had left, and they needed each other. For her, he was willing to be second.

And then Luke emerged with Leia at his elbow, looking every inch the part of a reclusive Jedi master, from his tattered robes to his bearded face. Every angry word drained out of Wedge, drowned out by the simple, relieved chorus of _he’s alive_.

Leia waited until they were within arm's reach of each other to step away, presumably to prevent Luke from turning and sprinting for the safety of the ship. They stared at each other, taking in all the little changes. Wedge cataloged all the new lines on Luke's face, wondered where they could have come from. Had they been there before, and he simply forgot? He nearly missed it when Luke spoke.

"I'm back."

And oh, wasn't that just like him though? Wedge chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So you are." They continued their staring match, until Luke moved to embrace him. Any destructive, angry thoughts that were left vanished as he pulled Luke against his chest, arms circling his back. There were so many things he wanted to say, but all that he managed was, "And you're staying."

"Yes." Luke agreed. "I'm needed."

It was probably Pava that hooted when he pulled Luke into an unintentionally rough kiss, one hand sliding up to grip the back of his head. He liked that girl, enough to not call her out for insubordination. Luke kissed back just as hard, both hands on Wedge's face. Distantly, Wedge noted that he was still wearing his wedding ring. His breath hitched as a sudden surge of long-buried want punched him in the gut, and he pulled back.

"Desperately." He replied, the small quirk of his brow seeming to accentuate the breathlessness of his tone. Luke laughed, his chin perched on Wedge's shoulder. Two decades of exile had shrunken him a bit; Luke had never been able to fit against him like this before. In those glory days of fire and fight, he'd been an inch and a half shorter than Wedge. Now, it was closer to three. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you Skywalker?"

Luke hummed, scratchy bearded face nuzzling into his neck. The hangar was clearing out now, be it of people's own volition, or the will of the Jedi master in their midst, Wedge didn't know. With Luke in his arms again after so long, frankly, he didn't care. 

"I missed you." He said finally, embarrassed at the hitch in his voice as he held Luke at arm's length, staring into his eyes. "Don't you dare leave me in the lurch like that ever again."

He felt rather than heard Luke's excuses; having to reflect on his failures, exile the only way to redeem himself, the only way he could do right by his fallen students. Wedge shook his head slowly, sighing.

"Never." He said, jabbing Luke in the chest. "Leave. Without. Telling. Me. Ever. Again." Each word was accentuated with another sharp poke, and Luke winced dutifully every time. Once Wedge was finally finished, he dropped his hands to his sides. It took all of his strength not to cross them over his chest, leaving himself open.

"Yes, dear." Luke replied softly, but his smile wasn't one of serenity, the soft expression of a Master one with the Force. His wicked grin made the years melt away and then oh, there he was. There was his Red Five.

"You're lucky I love you too much to throttle you." Wedge sighed wearily. Luke laughed, taking his hand.

"I'm the luckiest man to ever live." He agreed, and they both startled when Leia cleared her throat. Wedge had completely forgotten she was there and, from the sheepish expression on Luke's face, so had his husband. "But I do believe I was brought here for a reason other than apologies, isn't that right, General?" Leia shook her head, but she was smiling.

"There will be time enough for apologies later, because trust me, you're not done yet. Not by a long shot." She briskly walked past them, a wordless order to follow hanging in the air. Luke hadn't let go of his hand, and laced their fingers together as they went. "But yes, we currently have more intelligence on the First Order than ever and with the still-recent destruction of Starkiller Base under our belts, there has never been a better time to plan an attack."

Wedge felt Luke bristle. He was no stranger to violence, to war, but to spend so long in solitude just to be thrown right back into the thick of it...he almost felt sorry for him. Luke's smile was pinched, but genuine.

"Anything for the cause, Leia." His fingers tightened around Wedge's, and Wedge fought back a wince. Anything for the cause? Those were his words, not Luke's, never had been. Luke didn't see the world in black and white, all or nothing. Shades of grey and compromise were how he operated, were one of the things that made him so highly regarded. Wedge stopped walking, Luke's arm jerking back as he held fast. He looked back, confused for a moment.

"We'll meet you there, Leia." Wedge said, and she barely broke pace before continuing on her way. Whatever she'd said to Luke aboard the Falcon was weighing on her, but it wasn't the time to ask. Instead, he turned to his husband, mimicking him. "Anything for the cause?" Luke shrugged.

"It's my destiny to serve with all I am, Wedge. Hers too. We tried to have our own lives, and look where it got us." He tried to spread his arms wide, but he refused to let go of Wedge's hand. Wedge groaned, palming his face.

"Oh, shut up, would you?" Fingers still laced tight, Wedge pulled Luke against him. The angle of their arms was slightly awkward, like they were dancing. "That dark side of yours, it seduces people. It shows them what they want to see without telling them the whole truth. Ben was an easily manipulated kid, and you can't keep blaming yourself for being unable to protect him."

All this time, all these years later, and Wedge could still punch straight to the heart of what was troubling him, easy as you please. Sometimes, Luke wondered if Wedge wasn't Force-sensitive after all, and subconsciously reading his mind. _I failed our nephew_ , were the words he couldn't say, and Wedge wouldn't make him. Instead, he pulled his hand away, wrapping his free arm around Luke and leaning down to press their foreheads together.

"You've been carrying this a long time, Rogue Leader, it's past time you shared the burden. That's why we fly in squads."

Luke laughed at that, long and loud, and Wedge felt himself flush as random passerby slowed to stare at the spectacle. He was wheezing when he finally calmed down, hands clutching the front of Wedge's jacket.

"I love you." Luke gasped, his nose knocking against Wedge's as he pulled back enough to be able to look into his face without his eyes crossing. "I'm so sorry. If it takes me the rest of our lives, I'm going to make up for vanishing on you. I can't think of any one thing that would prove how sorry I am, so I'm going to do them all until you forgive me."

Wedge's face immediately broke into a smile.

"All I wanted to hear, Luke." He said quietly, thumbing the curve of Luke's hip through his robes. "Not that I'm opposed to a lifetime of you doing as I ask, for once." He added quickly, and Luke snorted.

"You'll have to be satisfied with sharing my leash, I'm afraid. Leia hasn't even _begun_ to let me have it."

Wedge was well aware that they were having a moment, right there in the hall. The banter felt good, natural, as if Luke had never left. But the tender reunion really _did_ need to wait; there were easily twenty people waiting on them, expecting Luke to walk in and solve everything, and Wedge had to know.

"Tell me, do you actually have a plan to defeat the First Order?" The wry smile didn't help. Luke was good at teaching, at commanding. Planning? Not so much.

"I've got two." Luke replied casually as they walked down the hall. Wedge's hand had found his again, and was almost charmed to find that the master of serenity had sweaty palms. Well, palm. "Rey tells me her friend Finn has quite a knack with a lightsaber, you know."

"You're trusting the fate of the universe to a couple of kids?" Wedge deadpanned, and when his husband glanced up, he could see him hiding a smile.

"Why not? We did just fine." Before Wedge could reply, they arrived at the command center. Luke's hand tightened around his slightly, then went to pull away. It was Wedge squeezing back that convinced him not to. "Well, here goes everything."

He'd waited so long for Luke to come back to him, and a flash of sentiment grabbed his heart and squeezed. As Luke's false hand reached out to open the door, Wedge leaned down slightly, kissing the spot below his earlobe that had always made him blush.

"I love you." He said quietly, and Luke trembled as his breath brushed over his bearded cheek. "Welcome back. Now, go show them why the Dark fears your name."

Luke's face was set with determination as they walked into their meeting, but his eyes never stopped smiling.


End file.
